


let me take your coat (and this weight off your shoulders)

by nctaliaromanova



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Maria Hill Feels, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 14:22:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21321631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nctaliaromanova/pseuds/nctaliaromanova
Summary: in which maria finds natasha out in the rain, cold seeping into her bones,but she knows just how to warm her back up under her touch.[post-iw | au where maria survives]❝ it's okay if you can't find the words.let me take your coat,and this weight off your shoulders. ❞
Relationships: Maria Hill/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 115





	let me take your coat (and this weight off your shoulders)

**Author's Note:**

> the title is adapted from two by sleeping at last.  
a blackhill short i wrote for sarah (@BLACKHLLL on twt)  
↪ i love you <3

**LET ME TAKE YOUR COAT (AND THIS WEIGHT OFF YOUR SHOULDERS)**   


⋯⋯⋯

The rain seeps into her trench coat, streaming down her arms in rivulets. Tears mix with the dirt streaked on her cheeks, but she doesn’t show it, not when she has her back against the door of the balcony. Earth’s secretary; that’s what she is now, or what she’s been forced to take up. The crushing reality only sets in a week later, when she trails down the hallways to find rooms empty, kitchenware untouched and floors layered in dust. She was so close to finding some semblance of a home she never had, only for it to be stripped away from her just as fast. The Black Widow was always destined to be a loner. 

_ Black Widows by themselves, for themselves, Natalia.  _

She remembered her superiors whispering it by her ear as her blood-stained hands trembled atop a fallen Red Room trainee.

“Nat,” A voice shakes her out of her thoughts, her grip on the railing tightening. It’s firm, but yet soft and hushed against the pouring rain. As a hand curls around her shoulder, she lets unshed tears slip, pooling on the collar of her coat. 

_ Natasha doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t deserve affection, care, or concern. Natasha doesn’t deserve her. _

“It’s pouring,” Maria states, as if to further solidify the fact that rain was trickling down her back. She says it more so for Natasha, who was tuned out to the sounds and sights around her, solely drowning in her own thoughts. Natasha nods her head slowly, noticing that the deafening patter of rain no longer lingers in her ears. She finds an umbrella over her head, catching all the rain as droplets slide off and land beside her feet. 

“It’s late, you should be asleep,” Natasha mumbles flatly, closing her eyes momentarily. As she reopens them, she finds a hand wrapped around her waist, coupled with a soft hum. “And you?” Maria rubs slow circles on her back, even though Natasha could barely feel the warmth radiating from her hands.

“I don’t know if I can handle this, Mia.” She trails her gaze across the city skyline, taking in the sheer number of people left standing after the decimation. The number of losses stands out to her even more, though. She knows she isn’t to blame for it, knows that she shouldn’t be shouldering the brunt of it all, but it was what she did best. Natasha was so close to her breaking point, but she wouldn’t tell anyone, not even Maria.

“You don’t have to, Nat.” Maria turns her around slowly, coming face to face with fresh streaks of tears and red-rimmed eyes. She lifts an arm to move Natasha’s damp hair from her face, tucking strands behind her ears. Natasha’s lips were trembling ever so slightly, but Maria pretended not to notice, instead guiding her back into their apartment. 

She peels the wet layers from Natasha’s body, tossing them into the laundry basket. As Maria leaves to grab a warm towel and gently drapes it over her shoulders, Natasha shudders. “Thanks.” She utters despite the sobs she was trying to suppress, her gaze slowly shifting to Maria. She simply shakes her head, getting up to support Natasha’s weight as they climbed onto the bed.

⋯⋯⋯

The clock strikes one, but Maria is far from being asleep. Natasha curls in on herself, back merely inches away from Maria’s. Her toes felt chilly, but so did her entire body, leaving her a shuddering mess. As she feels the mattress dip from Maria turning on her side, she wills herself to stop shivering, leaning harder into the bed to ground herself. 

Slowly, Maria inches closer to her, until her chest is pressed against Natasha’s back. Natasha sighs quietly, the warmth radiating off Maria offering her respite from the lethal chill in her bones. Maria knew when exactly she needed her the most, much to Natasha’s content, even though she would never admit it.

“You don’t have to hide, you know?” Maria curls her fingers against Natasha’s midsection, fingers gently brushing against her ribs. As she ghosts her fingers along Natasha’s skin, she picks up on every little detail. The bullet wound in her chest. The dozens of tiny light pink scars littered across her shoulders and her stomach. Natasha’s breath hitches when Maria runs her fingers across the jagged edges of the bullet wound she’d sustained in Odessa.   
  
“Everyone left, Masha. _Every single one of them._” Natasha chokes out, her hand finding Maria’s beneath the sheets and clutching it tightly. She turns to face her, their noses barely touching each other’s. “If you left, I wouldn’t know what—” She inhales sharply, squeezing her eyes shut. “I wouldn’t know if I’d still be here.” Tears cling heavily to her lashes, as a thousand scenarios race through her mind.

Maria plants a soft kiss on her temple, easing away the thoughts haunting her. She stalls for a moment, taking in Natasha’s words. At that moment, Maria realises just how much she meant to her and how much Natasha would give up to be by her side. “We’ll be okay. I’ll never leave, alright?” Maria’s palm stops just below Natasha’s left collarbone, feeling her pulse race.   
  
“_Promise me_, Ria.” Natasha buries her head in the crook of Maria’s neck, taking in the soft scent of her hair and her fingers picking up on every detail of her skin. 

“_Promise_, Nat.”

⋯⋯⋯


End file.
